Truth
by Cyath
Summary: The End of Evangelion comes - but in a different way than anyone expected.


Vengeance

It is strange how memories work sometimes. One little thing, one sight, sound, smell or touch, can trigger a flood of emotion, a remembrance of things past and long gone. Maybe that is the way humans are, physical beings even in matters of the heart. Sometimes, of course, it is different, and thoughts are the harbingers of memory. Sometimes it is more.

To the man walking along the corridors of NERV, it was all of these. And yet again, it didn't matter. It always didn't matter. It was a kind of litany he'd followed these past few years, and he'd grown so used to it that now that almost anything could be excused by that. It always didn't matter because of the more important thing. That justified everything.

Footsteps, echoing around the empty corridors. Footsteps in the sand. Lighter ones, their sounds now muted in the dim, musty chambers of his mind. Other footsteps, treading with his own, treading on his.

She was wearing high heels that day, he suddenly realized. Almost everything, his mind seems to whisper again. Almost anything can be excused. The thoughts faded, to be replaced by the steady, unremitting fall of his feet on the polished floor. He could almost hear her own fainter tread beside him. Almost.

He thought about other things as he walked. Plans, plans for tomorrow, plans for next week…everything had to begin on schedule, end at the appropriate time, not before, not after. He'd said as much to her once, and she'd understood. His own reflection staring up at him from the polished floor, silently mocking him. The greater goal, the one plan of your life, it seemed to say. Almost everything.

Yes, he told it grimly. For the greater good.

He came to a door. The door. That, at least, was different than before…they'd had to walk up that horrible twisted scaffolding, all the while wondering if they were going to fall. He was worried, at least for her; she still somehow managed to remain cheerful and enthusiastic, chatting to Naoko as if there wasn't a care in the world. Perhaps it was her way of coping…Naoko and he into their work, she into her son. He wondered again what would have happened if they had all taken different paths.

That was strange, He hadn't thought that in ages. Resolutely, he quashed the fleeting impulse of regret and turned back to stare at the door. And sighed. Regret…what he was about to do tonight gave the lie to his rigid self-control. The door again. It beckoned, it's outline somehow harsher in the pale light from above.

He sighed again and keyed in the code. It was the same code, of course. Ironically, everyone in NERV knew it…what had been a well-guarded secret in his day was now common knowledge. How times change. It was the old man who came up with it, and her working out the algorithms into the wee hours. Naoko would have been jealous. He stepped in. Strange that the night made everything seem different. Perhaps…perhaps he should have been kinder to the boy long ago on that night. Perhaps.

It doesn't matter now. I was needed elsewhere. It is for the higher goal.

The buttons on his right…even now he could see her slim hand stretch out, the finger press the plainly marked "3"…now he saw his own larger one repeat the same motions. Only now his gloves kept the light from the ring on his hand. He felt the lift begin to descend with hardly a shudder. So many images of past times.

He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, remembering the last time he'd done that…years from this day. His wedding anniversary.

Remember, Gendou. The higher goal.

The lift plunged down into the inner recesses of NERV.

Elsewhere, Shinji Ikari turned in his sleep. It was the same nightmare. He moaned in his sleep, the same moan.

He brought his hand up at he stepped out, absently pushing his glasses up. Then he looked around him, at the vast open space, the complex tangle of wires and steel girders, looking for all the world like some huge, bizarre web of human making. Of his, or her, of all of their makings. He let his gaze take in all this, the computers, the shattered glass of the control room, the bulk of the walls, the way the light streamed down from above, and then brought it up. Higher. Higher.

It was staring down at him. Unit-01. He moved his glasses up again.

"Evangelion Unit-01. Test Type. Construction based on preliminary data collected from Prototype Model and Angel specimens. AT Field estimated at above average levels at optimal performance, with fluctuations dependent on pilot. Primary armaments, Progressive Knife…" he let his voice drone on in the silence of the holding facility, taking comfort from the familiar sounding feel of the words. Hmm…the feel of the words. Hadn't used that phrase in ages. He could see her step up to the entry, a smile on her face. He vaguely recalled that he told her that she looked good in the plug suit. Then again, maybe he hadn't. Back to the report, to the work, as always.

The room suddenly felt oppressive, the darkness enfolding him, enclosing him in a cage, a cage formed of twisted metals and towering golems, of memories and thoughts. He shrugged it all away. He could see clearer now, in this room of his own devising and creation. He remembered that it was for the higher goal. She knew that, they all did. Even Naoko. He raised his eyes to EVA-01's baleful gaze.

"Yui." He had no doubt that she heard him.

Sweat beaded on Shinji's brow. This was a bad one.

He had done his fair share of wondering with the rest of them, weighing opportunities, decisions, responsibilities, problems. And why shouldn't they have. It is no easy thing to change the fate of humanity. So they had each done it is his of her own way. But only he had seen the light, at the end. They'd all been too blind, even her.

Then why was he here? Seized by sudden indecision, he mopped his brow and started forward.

The eyes, a fierce yellow, stared back at him.

He stared back. If anything, they grew fiercer.

He reached out with one hand, then pulled it back, drawing it slowly up to his nose pushing his glasses up with almost excruciating care. Then, he turned around and continued.

"Yui. You knew what had to be done."

No answer.

He began to pace, back and forth on the high walkway, studiously ignoring the great head next to him. He looked, suddenly, up, and saw the lights, the lights that had fallen with the Sachiel's attack. The lights which would have killed his son.

That would have been a loss. The plan would have been spoiled, and that could not be allowed.

"I'm sorry." Was he really? Or were these mere words to placate a pawn, a powerful pawn, surely, but ultimately one that had to be used, that was of no importance other than the furthering of the plan. Words like those he spoke to Shinji once. The look on his son's face had been no less that pathetic.

Were these the same words? He could not pretend to know. He continued.

"I know you are there, Yui. I know I left you. But trust me. It had to be done."

There was no turning back now. The old chant had returned, the same iron-hard resolve. He welcomed it back…how he had ever doubted himself, he did not know. He turned around.

The eyes looked at him.

"There will be a final resolution to this. Humanity will be transformed."

He never got further.

A single huge purple and green fist had torn itself free from the moorings at it's side, and with the speed born of hatred and anger, ripped the bridge apart as Evangelion Unit-01opened it's mouth and screamed.

The single man on it had no chance.

Yellow eyes stared at the one object hanging from the very tip of it's finger. Slowly, ever so slowly, it slid into the center of the bloody mess on the palm. Yui regarded it curiously.

And then the palm snapped shut.

Shinji Ikari woke up with a smile. It had been such a nice dream after all! All about his mom. This was one of the good ones. He hadn't had one like this in…

His thoughts were interrupted by Misato's frenzied shriek. He was just turning around when she burst into his room.

"Shinji-kun, something's happened at NERV…"

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